Danny D's Diaries
by Julie Reed
Summary: Oneshot. The short diaries of Danny D., resident at a hospital in Southern Georgia.


**A/N: Oneshot. I might continue it later on, but I'm not sure yet. Let me know what you think :)**

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**- Danny D.'s Diaries -**

**14th April - 11:00 am**

Boy, are we tired of Merle Dixon and his drunken fights. He was stinking alcohol at emergency last night, and the wonderful space of a whole room was wasted just to lock him in so that the other patients wouldn't have to suffer with his presence, as we did every weekend. I was actually lucky and didn't have to deal with him directly, but I was honoured to receive one of his disgusting comments about which jobs I could do to him better than stitching his forehead. Sometimes I wish he got a kidney stone.

Anyways, good news is that I've witnessed a case of rabies for the very first time. Not really _a_ case, more like dozens of them. I love animals, I truly do, but the one that's infecting these people needs to be put down as soon as right now. Today a little girl told me that her grandpa had bitten her in the arm. We thought she was hallucinating, or basically lying, but the marks on her arm were clearly human, so we deduced that his grandpa must have very good dentures, and a serious case of rabies. They couldn't find the man though, he just disappeared.

**14th April - 07:45 pm  
**

I'm starting to think that biting other people is becoming a trend. I might try it myself. We haven't received the results from the blood tests yet, the symptoms keep getting worse, and we've had a few losses. The strange thing is that all those people had been vaccinated, so I don't know, perhaps it's a new form of the virus. Martha, the little girl, is stable. The fever is still high, but she doesn't show any other symptoms, for now.

Not everything is bad though. The first good thing is that I had time to have lunch at Georgio's, well, half a lunch really, one bite of a vegetarian sandwich to be exact. The second good thing is that Merle's little brother came to pick him up. I was waiting outside Georgio's for my order when I saw him walking down the street, Merle's brother, Daryl I think it's his name. He got all the good genes in the family, jesus christ. He looked at me because I wasn't being very discrete about my admiration, but, oh well, he was the one that blushed, not me.

Coming back to the sandwich, I'm sorry, the one bite of a sandwich. I ran for my life to get that perfectly cooked sandwich, and right when I begun to enjoy its wonderful taste. Beep. Emergency call. Of course. It was Emma, there had been an accident, some sports _celebrity_ in town had basically cracked his skull trying to perform one of his tricks, and the surgeon wanted me there. I thought she wasn't being serious, told her that I had seen the love of my life, or the love of my one-minute-free life, and that I wanted to wait for him to come back. But, yep, it turned out it was serious, so I had to say good bye to Mr. Daryl Dixon, my one-minute love, and to my vegetarian sandwich.

By the way, this _celebrity_ guy, he probably won't make it.

**15th April - 4:21 am  
**

The guy was alive, or something, and he fucking came back. Not kidding. He fucking came back, and tried to bite the hell out of everyone. I don't know what's going on but I'm starting to freak out. The operation was doomed from the beginning, there was no way that the bleeding could be stopped, and it didn't. I was the one to certify his death, 23:07, he left, he completely did, I'm sure of it. No vitals, no brain activity, no nothing. Nothing. Five minutes later, 23:12, he moves a finger. I repeated over and over again that he was gone, that the monitors didn't show any signs of life, but the surgeon kept going with her '_does this look like no brain activity to you?'_. The man looked like shit, like dead shit, and there he was, moving his fingers and jaw like he was trying to brush his teeth with our skin. I checked his pulse with my own hands. Nothing. Fucking nothing. Two other residents tried. Nothing. Nothing. But he was there, I swear to God, to Daryl Dixon and to my veggie sandwich that he was there. Alive, or dead, or half-dead, or I don't know what. But one can't be half-dead, so what was he?

**15th April - 11:09 pm  
**

Martha died. The little girl that had been bitten by her grandpa, she's dead, although I don't know if she came back, because I didn't wait there to see it happen again. She probably did, though. Like the rest of them. We were forced to lock them inside their rooms, deny any medical attention, or any attention at all. They have become a threat, the half-dead have become a threat, and no one knows what to do.

The hospital was evacuated, abandoned, and those people, or whatever they are now, are still in there. I can't even remember what happened afterwards. I remember the blood, the screams, and their whitening eyes. I ran away, I didn't have anything to do there, just die, or be bitten, like the others. I'm home now, looking outside the window through a tiny hole that I carved on the wood, with only the light of a little candle illuminating the disgusting piece of shit that this diary has turned into.

I don't know what I'm waiting for really. I thought I saw Daryl Dixon ran across the street, but it might have been my imagination. I hope his brother is fine, Merle, he's an asshole, but there's no need to have him wandering around these streets for ever, or for the time that these... things will. It's strange. To call them things, but I can't find a better word. Perhaps just _white eyes_, or _half-dead_, but one can't be half-dead, right? They're just... walking. Like, walking dead.


End file.
